


The Losers Bureau

by SawyerXT



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abuse, Asexual Mike Hanlon, Asexual Spencer Reid, Bisexual Bill Denbrough, Depression, F/F, F/M, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Pansexual Stanley Uris, Stanley Uris Has OCD, Suicidal Tendencies, Suicidal Thoughts, bau, pennywise - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29257950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SawyerXT/pseuds/SawyerXT
Summary: This is the Criminal Minds and IT crossover nobody asked for. But...enjoy!Georgie is killed and of course, there's more to it than that. This case is like a case the BAU has never seen before.............................................................................................“Alright, what’s going on here Elle?” Detective Aaron Hotchner asked Detective Elle Greenaway. He looked around at the parents of the child. The mother was crying in another officer's arms as she tried to reach the dead body of her son, and the father looked stunned while standing well behind the line police tape.“A small boy was murdered, age six, he seems to have gotten his arm torn or bitten off. The cause of death was determined to be exsanguination or shock.”
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 4





	1. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. Nobody asked for this one, but here it is anyway.  
> A Criminal Minds and IT crossover.

“So...who’s first…?” Bev asked looking around the dimly lit room. It was silent for a few seconds before Richie grasped Eddie’s wrist and raised his hand for him.

“EDDIES GOT ONE! EDDIE’S GOT A QUESTION!” He screamed. Eddie snatched his hand back and clutched it to his chest. 

“No, I don’t. Thanks though, Rich.” The asthmatic rolled his eyes so dramatically that you could hear it.

“I’ll g-go first…” 

The Losers sat watching Bill in anticipation, waiting to see who he’d ask and what that person would pick. The candle light flickered back and forth as Mike gently blew at it seeing how much pressure he could put before it went out entirely, and Stan watched, eyes glued to the orange flame.

“Well, go ahead.” He said, still not looking away. “Ask.”

Bill smirked. Stan was always impatient. No matter where they were, Stan would always be in a rush, even when he had no place to really be at the moment. For example: They went to the Mall of America a few months prior and Stan looked like he was about ready to drag them all through the mall and back out the door by their hair.  
He kept complaining about how they were ‘taking too long’ and groaning ‘let’s go’

“O-okay, Stanley. Truth or D-Duh-Dare?” 

Stan looked away from the flame and at Bill, scowling. Bill laughed at Stan’s typical reaction.

“It’s your f-f-fault for being so...rushy…” Bill joked and Stan still stared at him, just like he had with the candle.

“‘Rushy’ isn’t a word.”

“Shut up and just a-an-swer. Truth or Dare?”

Stan huffed. “Truth”

“Who was your first crush?” 

It was a simple question that is almost always likely to come up during a game of Truth or Dare with kids this age, but it still sent Stan into a bright red blush that made him look like the beginning of the rainbow.

“Um, well… it was you, Bill. I- I didn’t really like anyone before that.” Stan fidgeted with his watch as he spoke. 

“Awww…” Bev teased, she reached a hand out and pinched Stan’s cheek. “How cute…”

“Cut it out! Don’t touch me!” He pushed her hand away, face still red. 

The others laughed.

“You and B-” 

With a quick flash, the candle went out and the room fell into pitch blackness, no warning, no reasoning, just...dark. Smoke floated up and probably curled as usual, but it couldn’t be seen, just smelled.  
Eddie screamed at the top of his lungs, sheer terror colouring his voice.  
“I WANT MY MOMMY!” He yelled.

It couldn’t be heard above Eddie’s screams, but there was a click of the lighter. Then a few more. Finally, it lit up and Mike brought it to the wick of the candle.  
The room was lit up. Everyone seemed to be a little spooked but none were as spooked as Eddie. He clung to Richie with every fiber of his being, face pale, and lip quivering. The perfect picture of any character in Scooby-Doo when coming across a ghost.

“I like how we’re calling Stanley cute, but Eddie is the real five-year-old here.” Mike smiled.

“W-who blew out the c-cuh-candle?” Bill asked. Mike tentatively raised a hand.  
“It was an accident. I was gently blowing on it, then I laughed too hard.” Mike smiled as the rest did too.

“Richie, ask Eddie to be even cuter. See if it’s possible.” Ben poked Eddie’s thigh and got his hand slapped away. Not by Eds though...by Richie.

“This is MY baby!” He yelled, “And ain’t nobody gonna touch my baby!”

“Ow.” Ben winced, trying to cover his smirk.

“Hey! That’s MY baby!” Bev yelled at Richie, trying not to laugh. She gave his arm a nice punch. Richie hit back, narrowly avoiding her chest.  
Bev clutched her breasts with a protective arm and gasped, a goofy smile spread across her face.  
“Richie Tozier...how dare you!”

Richie held up his arms defensively, eyes wide.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO! PLUS, I DIDN’T EVEN HIT IT!”

This set off a chain of events that lead to a full-blown tickle fight. Squeals of laughter echoed in Bill's bedroom and from downstairs a small boy -who was putting his homework folder away after a long 20-minute lesson of math- heard it. 

His big brother was so fun. So playful. So...inspiring…

Bill had a lot of friends too and that made Georgie jealous. He only had three friends himself, -one of them being Bill- but big brother…?  
He had six friends.  
Six.

Georgie could hardly believe that was even possible! Making even one friend was hard enough because you got to ‘get on their good side’ as Zac Denbrough -Bill and Georgie’s father- had said.  
“Make them like you.” Was Zac’s answer to Georgie’s question of ‘how do I be popular, like Bill’.  
How did Bill make people like him? Was it his stutter? His hair? Maybe his smile…?  
Georgie would never know.

The boy ran up the creaky, wooden stairs skipping steps as he went to Bill’s bedroom. In a flash, he threw the door open, careful not to let it hit the wall because their mama would get mad if it made a mark...or worse…  
A dent.

Bev and Rich were breathing heavily a few laughs peppered in between, Ben was trying to put the string of his hoodie back through the hole, Eddie had his hand stuck in the air vent, and Billy -Georgie’s idol, gay older brother, and best best friend- was playing with Stanley Uris’s hair.

“Hi Georgio,” Bev said, staring at the boy above her. Even that small phrase coming from Beverly’s mouth sent Richie off into hysterics once more. 

“You...YOU SOUND LIKE A CHUPA CHUPS LOLLIPOP TASTES!” He wheezed.  
“THAT DON’T EVEN MAKE SENSE!” Bev retorted. She clutched her aching stomach in one hand, face red.

“What do you need Georgie?” Stan asked, ignoring the two clowns.

Stan’s head was in Bill’s lap. It was a cute sight that Stan’s religious parents would have hissed at, but Georgie liked it. It was so...pure. Like any other relationship ever.  
‘Gay isn’t bad…’ Georgie though.

“I just wanted to play with you guys too!” He exclaimed cheekily. “I finished my math.”

Bill frowned.

“M-m-maybe later, Georgie. We’re kinda busy.”

“Busy with what?” Georgie was confused. Bill always let him play.

“Well…” Bill tried to fabricate a lie as quickly as possible.

“Bill brought up earlier how you should go play outside. You’ve been doing homework for so long…” Stan said. “Geez, B-Buh-Big Bill, spit it out!”

“Yeah...w-what St-Stan said.” 

Georgie pouted. “Oh, well...it’s raining…”

“Then m-m-make a boat, a p-puh-puh-p-'' Bill stuttered. Stan knew not to interrupt usually, but...he wanted Georgie to go so they could keep playing their game.

“A paper boat.”  
Georgie nodded understandingly, but he was still obviously disappointed that he couldn’t play. A paper boat did sound like a fun idea, however…


	2. 1: The Behaviour Analysis Unit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BAU arrive at the scene.

“Alright, what’s going on here Elle?” Detective Aaron Hotchner asked Detective Elle Greenaway. He looked around at the parents of the child. The mother was crying in another officer's arms as she tried to reach the dead body of her son, and the father looked stunned while standing well behind the line of police tape.  
“A small boy was murdered, age six, he seems to have gotten his arm torn or bitten off. The cause of death was determined to be exsanguination or shock.”

Another man approached, his hair in a side part but tucked behind his ears, and he wore a sweater vest over a long-sleeve button-down. This was Doctor Spencer Reid.  
“The boy was quite literally scared to death,” Dr. Reid said. “The loss of blood happened after the boy died. Even though his heart stopped, the rest of the blood was shaken from the body, rather violently. Almost like a bully shaking a kid down for change.”

Elle sighed, shaking her head. “Most of the blood washed away because of the rain. You can’t possibly know that.”

“I can tell because of the way the bloodstains are splattered across the sidewalk. Even if the rain didn’t wash some away, it’s practically stained there for good.”

“So, all of the blood that was lost came from his arm?” Hotch asked. Reid nodded. Hotch looked at Georgie’s limp, cold body and sighed. “This is different from any case I’ve ever seen. That missing arm wasn’t just...torn off. Someone would have had to cut it off.”  
“No. The mark on his yellow slicker and his limb, in general, was way too messy. And too quickly done to be sawed off.” Reid said kneeling down next to Georgie. He slid on a pair of light yellow rubber gloves and reached for something stuck to the matted blood dried onto the raincoat.

It was an orange pom pom.

“Look at this guys.” Reid held it up so the others could see it. Prentiss bent down and took it from Reid’s fingers looking it over too before putting it in an evidence bag.  
“Could be useful.” She said.

“Who’re the kids over there?” Derek asked. He nodded towards a group of kids watching solemnly.  
Agent Jason Gideon ducked under the police tape and walked over to them.  
“The one in the white and green t-shirt with the jean shorts is the victim’s brother, Bill Denbrough. The rest of them are his friends, and I believe the one with the curly hair is Bill’s boyfriend.” He said. 

“Homosexual?” Elle asked and Gideon nodded. “The rest are all just friends?” He nodded again.

“Spence, go comfort the kids,” JJ said. Reid faced her, a confused expression crossed his face.  
“Comfort them?”  
“Yeah. You look like you could be their age. So, go make sure they’re okay.” She smirked before heading to bring the evidence bag with the pom pom in it to the police.

Spencer nodded a little before walking over to the group. He ducked under the police tape and tried his best to smile and look friendly.  
“Hi. I’m Doctor Spencer Reid of the BAU. BAU stands for Behavioral Analysis Unit. It’s a branch of the FBI. I’m sorry to hear about your brother but don’t worry, we’ll find the person who-”

One of the kids looked up, his big brown eyes swimming with tears. He had a fanny pack around his waist and a salmon coloured shirt on. He looked to be tinier and younger than he probably was. The boy burst into tears and hugged Reid’s waist.  
The much taller man froze, his hands hovering in mid-air like he was surrendering to an un-sub. He watched the boy cry into his torso for a few seconds before placing his hands on the boy’s shoulder blades in a half-hug.

Reid decided it was okay to pick the boy up. He grasped him under the arms and lifted him. Holding him like a five-year-old. The boy cried as Bill Denbrough watched the coroners lift Georgie into the back of their van. Reid watched too. Trying to decide why this case felt so...different from any of the other cases he worked on. Why was this one...so special…?

“Why are you talking to us?” A boy with dark, chocolaty skin in a white t-shirt said. Spencer Reid snapped back to reality and looked down at him.  
“Oh. Well...because I was instructed to.” Reid said, then he realized how rude that sounded, so he tried to cover it back up. “And because I wanted to.”  
“I’m Mike.” He stuck out his hand and then pulled it back, remembering that the man was holding Eddie. “Mike Hanlon.” 

Reid nodded and then looked back out at the coroner’s van. It drove off with the body of the boy.


	3. 2: Munchausen's By-Proxy

The door to the interrogation room opened without a sound, but Eddie felt like he could still hear it. Everything was so loud and he felt like a dog. One with supersonic hearing.  
He could hear his mother's heavy breathing next to him, the chair creaking beneath her heavy body, and the sound of her stupid puffy jacket rubbing against itself most of all.

The man he had hugged earlier -whose name he had already forgotten- entered the room. Eddie could tell he was good at his job, but something about him also seemed unprofessional. Maybe it was because he looked so young and maybe it was because he looked like a pipe cleaner with glasses compared to the rest of the bureau.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I’ll be asking you a few questions toda-”

“How long ago was this table washed and sanitized? And is my son in trouble? Because I can assure you that he did not kill that stupid Denbrough kid! Eddie-bear is much too innocent for anything of that nature. I mean look at his size! He’s just a ladybug!” Sonia Kaspbrak ranted and Reid looked at the mirrored window wearily.  
Sonia Kaspbrak is a lot like a few mothers that they’ve had in that very room before. Mothers who protect their children too much, don’t let them do things and make sure they don’t get sick like how a Roomba makes sure your cat’s tail is clean.

“This table is washed, dried, sanitized, and then wiped down once more after every use.” Dr. Reid lied. “And I assure you that we don’t think your son is the criminal we are looking for. We just want to ask a few questions.”  
Miss Kaspbrak glanced at her son angrily and then back at Dr. Reid.  
“Fine,” She said, “Eddie? Sweetie? Can you answer the nice man’s questions so we can go home and I can give you your three o’clock bath?”

Eddie’s face lit up a bright red at the mention of his bath. He nodded, staring at a glare on the metal table.  
“Thank you so much,” Reid said to the both of them. He cleared his throat and asked Eddie, “When was the last time you saw George Elmer Denbrough live?”

Eddie thought for a few seconds.  
“Well, me and my friends were playing Truth or Dare and Georgie was downstairs doing homework. Then he must have heard us laughing and play-fighting because-”

Sonia cut him off.

“PLAY-FIGHTING!?” She yelled and gasped. “Eddie! You could get hurt!”  
“Ma’am...please...let him retell the story, otherwise we’re going to have to ask you to leave…” Reid flinched.  
“You, Mr. Cop...cannot tell me what to do. This is my son we’re talking about, and I choose how to protect him from dangers. When I’m not here, then no one will be able to take care of him because he’s special.”

Eddie gasped for air and dug around in the fanny pack on his waist. He produced a small aspirator that someone seemed to have painted rainbow pastel colours. He triggered it in his mouth and began to breathe easy again.

“See! My Eddie-bear has asthma! He takes very good care of it for a boy his age.” Miss Kaspbrak said proudly.

The door to the interrogation room opened again and Agent Aaron Hotchner walked in. “Come on Ma’am. We need to do a separate questioning on you. Your son will be fine.”  
Miss Kaspbrak threw a huge hissy fit, but eventually, Agent Derek Morgan was able to manhandle her out of the room.

The door slammed shut causing both Reid and Eddie to jump. Eddie looked apologetically at Reid.  
“I’m sorry...my mommy can be really mean sometimes to strangers.” He said, taking another blast on his aspirator. Reid nodded a little before asking to examine the inhaler.  
Eddie handed it over and Reid brought it up to his face.  
It was painted in all pretty pastel colors, pink, orange, yellow, green-blue, and purple, with little white clouds and stars. The smooth work was impeccable and the details were very very small.

“Who painted this?” He asked. Eddie smiled.  
“Bill Denbrough. He’s got an amazing hand for sure. He draws lots of birds for Stan and-”  
“Who’s Stan?” Reid handed the painted inhaler back and Eddie placed it precariously on the table.

Eddie looked down nervously at the concrete floor, unsure of how to word it but Reid washed his worries away in one sweep.

“Is Stan Bill’s boyfriend? The one with the curls?”

The small asthmatic looked up again and nodded happily before recounting his story again.  
“But Stan goes birdwatching you see, and he has Bill draw the birds they spot. Plus Bill made the boat…”

His voice quivered as he remembered why they were there.  
Georgie.  
Georgie’s boat.  
Bill’s skilled hands made the thing that killed the boy in the slicker.  
Bill would never forgive himself.

“What boat?” Spencer Reid asked and Eddie frowned.  
“The boat that Georgie was chasing in the gutter. We didn’t want him playing Truth or Dare with us because he was younger. So Bill sent him off with a paper boat to play with in the rain.”

Reid nodded and wrote this down on the lined yellow pad of paper he had sitting next to him.  
“I don’t think Bill’s gonna forgive himself.”

They got into talking more about who Georgie was as a kid and if anyone would want to hurt him but Reid asked an abrupt question that was nowhere near on script.

“Does your mother have Munchausen's by-proxy?”

Eddie stared at the doctor, confused. He shrugged his small shoulders. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Munchausen's by-proxy --also known as factitious disorder-- is when a person acts like the individual he or she is caring for is sick or ill and that they need treatment. The adult perpetrator makes up lies and feins unlucky to have a child with this condition when in reality, all they want is attention and sympathy and there is nothing wrong with the child.” Reid stated. He sounded a bit like he was reading from a book. Eddie raised his eyebrows and looked at Reid.  
“Mommy wouldn’t do that to me...right?” He looked a little frightened. 

“Well it says here that you have no physical signs and symptoms of asthma but your mother insists you still need an aspirator. You also don’t have a lactose intolerance, a cashew allergy, a grass allergy, muscular problems, lack of bone density, and no ADHD either.” Reid read off of a small file in a manilla folder with Eddie’s name written on it’s tab in small minute handwriting.  
“She also never lets you go outside when it’s sunny apparently and she once tried to fake you having cancer. Also, not to forget that we confiscated a bottle of barbiturates from your mother’s purse that we have reason to believe she’s been giving you without doctor's orders.”

“That’s not true!” Eddie whined. His face was pale and his forehead had a layer of sweat on it. His mommy wouldn’t hurt him, right? Parents were supposed to protect you and make you healthy. Not lie to you and feed you something called ‘bar-bitch-you-ates’ behind your back.  
That’s only in movies...right?

“I’m sorry to say that it’s true. Your mother is being abusive and we might need to put you in a different home.” And Spencer Reid did genuinely feel sorry for the child. This kid knew nothing. He didn’t know the real reason he couldn’t go outside was because his mother was abusive, he just thought the sun made him sick. He didn’t know any better…   
And there were also things he still didn’t know.  
Like how his mother has been stealing pills and medication from Mr. Keene’s pharmacy along with the Derry Home Hospital. Or how she resulted in making medications by herself. Reid wouldn’t tell him those things, however.  
“Come here and let me take your fanny pack. My team needs to check it out.”

Eddie stood up and walked over to Spencer, hot tears coursing down his cheeks. Spencer unclipped the pack and took it, trying not to look the kid in the face, but he didn’t succeed. He watched Eddie’s milky brown eyes become not just sad, but more than sad. This kid was giving it up. Giving up his pack.  
His blue one at least.  
What Spencer and the rest of the bureau didn’t know was that Eddie had two.  
If anything in Eddie’s life had ever needed a crying and a winking emoji, it was now.


	4. Religious Abuse

Aaron Hotchner opened the door to the room and took a good look at the boy sitting in between his parents. Stan was staring down at the floor, his hands folded in his lap, and yamaka placed atop his head just like his father. They looked oddly different though. Almost like they weren't even related.  
“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Uris.” He nodded at the parents before nodding to Stanley without saying anything. “Now, we’ve changed our minds about a previous decision. We are going to interview Stanley and both of you two separate. Just to prevent bias confirming statements.”

Donald Uris stared at Hotch blankly. “Why?”

“We want your kid to tell us everything with no pressure. Parents can often be restricting when it comes to what we say. Without you in here, Stan can say whatever he wants without it ever leaking into your home unless he decides to tell you.” Hotch sighs before Gideon opens the door, ushering the parents out.

Stan’s shoulders seem to relax as the door closed behind them and Hotch made a mental note of that. It was always suspicious whenever a child acted much more open because a certain adult or adults weren’t around.

“I’m Detective Aaron Hotchner. I work with the FBI. Now I’m going to ask you-”

Without warning, Stan began to cry. His shoulders shook along with the rest of his body. He slowly reached up and pulled off his yamaka before letting it fall to the floor. Hotch raised his eyebrows in shock. He glanced at the mirrored window and then back at Stan before mouthing ‘Garcia’ to Gideon and JJ on the other side. 

“Please...please don’t make me go home...I don’t wanna go…” Stan’s voice broke. Hotch mouthed the word ‘Garcia’ again and Stan noticed. “Wh-What…?”

“Don’t worry. We aren’t going to send you home. I just am going to need you to tell me why you can’t go.” Hotch said gently.

After a moment of Stanley’s quiet sobs, the door opened slowly and a woman spoke. She had curly blonde hair with bangs and brightly colored clothing. “Hello, hello, hello!” She smiled. Stan looked up at the woman and his eyes brightened.  
Hotch knew that most kids who were going through a tough time would much rather speak to a friendly woman rather than a scary man dressed in a suit who introduces himself as an FBI agent as soon as he walks in the room.

“I’m Penelope Garcia, but most people here just kinda call me Garcia.” She sat down in a metal chair next to Hotch. “So, why are you crying? Why so upset, sweetheart?”

Stan sniffs and looks back down at his feet. “I...don’t wanna go home.” Garcia nodded and frowned a little at this statement.  
“Why not, sugar?”  
“Because I don’t wanna get hurt anymore…” Stan wiped his eyes with a shaky hand. 

Garcia nodded and reached across the table to test Stan. It was a cruel thing to do, but if he flinched, then that meant he definitely meant what he was saying.  
Sure enough, he flinched, instinctively putting his hands up to protect his face. Garcia pulled back and went over to the other side of the table, crouching in front of him and looking up, trying to see what colour his eyes were.

They were blue. A greenish-blue.

Garcia took his hands and smiled a little. Stan looked at her and smiled a little too. She just looked so friendly.

“What happened to make you feel so sad? Who hurt you?”

Stan didn’t say anything at first but after a lapse of silence, he did.  
“My mom and dad. They said I’m an awful sinner...and that I deserve to be shamed. So they hit me a lot. To...try and get the gay out of me…”  
Stan teared up again and Garcia gripped his hands tighter, not aggressively...just...comfortingly...like a hug almost. He cried again. Harder this time and Garcia wrapped him in a hug.   
Stan took notice of how she smelled like baby wipes and aloe vera. It was actually kind of calming.

Hotch got up and walked out the door trying to lighten his footsteps so too much noise wasn’t made, letting the two hug it out. He made his way to the observation room on the other side of the mirrored glass and watched from there too.   
“We’re gonna need a physical done on him to find out if he has any apparent marks and bruises. But for now, tell Derek to keep the parents for longer.”

JJ agreed, pulling out a small boxy bureau issued phone to call Derek Morgan. He was the one interviewing Stanley Uris’s parents, Donald and Andrea Uris.  
He agreed after hearing the words ‘child abuse’ and hung up before JJ could finish talking.


	5. 4: Bad Mouths and Little Crushes

Talking.

Talking is what Trashmouth Tozier did best. And as long as his cute little crush thought it was funny, he’d keep doing it.

Elle didn’t think it was funny though. She just found all this blah, blah, blah, bullshit annoying. 

Richie would be on track one minute, and the next thing you knew he’d be laughing and recounting how funny a Tik Tok he saw was. Or he’d be saying something sad and solemn about Georgie Denbrough, but then he’d throw in a bit of awful dark humor that not even fake Billie Eilish fans would find funny. 

“I think it’s pretty sad how now they have to lower him into the ground like that. Face motionless, hands folded...oh shit...he only has one hand.” Richie giggled and Elle rolled her eyes.

“Okay, look. Richard, please, stop. Your friend William Denbrough is in the room right next to us, crying, okay? You need to calm down and tell me what happened after Georgie left.”  
“I did, lady. Okay? We kept playing Truth or Dare until there was a knock at the damn door.” Richie rolled his eyes.

Elle nodded and then got up. “Fine. Be that way.” She opened the heavy metal door and walked out.  
“You sound like a mom you know!” Richie called. “Do you have kids?” She didn’t respond and the door slammed shut.

Trashmouth sat back and looked around, trying to avert his eyes from his arm.

Before Truth or Dare, they had played a little game Beverly called “Look and Ask”. It’s where you wrote your crush’s name down on your wrist and if you looked at it before it washed off, then you had to ask them out.  
Richie had a crush. Just like all of the Losers (Besides Stan and Bill of course).  
His crush was little, brown-haired, and mildly medicated, but above all...he was sweet yet feisty. Kinda like a half-cooked half-alive squirrel covered in sugar.   
Richie laughed at that thought. The thought of his crush, Eddie Kaspbrak’s face on an angry, aggressive, half charred squirrel.

Elle walked back into the room and told Richie he was free to leave. Mike, Ben, and Beverly were all waiting for him in the hallway.

“Where’s Eds, Stanny, and Big Bill?” Richie asked, adjusting his glasses. He grabbed his backpack and stood up, legs slightly numb from sitting for so long. 

“They’re doing other things right now,” Elle said, simply offering no explanation. She put a gentle hand on his back and ushered him past Stan and a blonde lady huddling close in the hallway. This woman -Garcia- was gently petting his curls and Stan was looking at his feet. A man that Richie didn’t know -which Stan now knew as Hotch- was talking to the tall, lanky man that had held Eddie earlier.   
‘Doctor Reid, that's his name…’ Richie recalled.

Richie saw the tears marking Stan’s face and he knew it wasn’t because of the small dead boy with the missing arm. The lack of Stan’s parents explained it all.

“So Stanny finally spilled the beans, huh?” Richie said casually. Elle froze and looked at him.  
“How much do you know?” She whispered.  
“I know enough to write one-third of Stan’s biography, there lady. Bill can write the other two slices of the pie.” Richie furrowed his eyebrows in concern for Stan.

All of his life he’s been abused. Whether it be by other kids at school, by his parents, or by his religious community as a whole.  
Stan was Jewish.  
He was ridiculed at his temple for being gay, he was ridiculed at home for existing, and he was ridiculed at school for being quiet and shy.

For fucks sake, Stanley Uris was even made fun of for having a Hebrew last name.  
‘Stanley Urine’ they would tease while tugging at his curls or throwing around his kippah like a frisbee.

“He’s only ever felt safe with us Losers…” Richie spoke out loud and Elle listened. She brought him to the office space and the boy sat down mindlessly in a chair at Spencer Reid’s desk. Elle sat across from him and crossed her legs.

“He’d go home sometimes but he’d leave us crying and freaking out wondering if he was going to be killed or raped or locked up. Worrying that his parents were going to permanently seal his windows shut so he can’t escape anymore. The way he just...shuts off when he says ‘I’m gonna head home now’ just fucking kills me and if you asked Bill, he’d probably say it killed him even more.  
“Bill’s his boyfriend and they started dating around two years ago, I think…? But anyway, their dates mostly consist of Bill having to sneak out in the middle of the night and climb in through Stan’s window to make sure he’s not starving to death or bleeding all over the place or dying of hypothermia.  
“His parents have teased him with food in public and then taken it away when he put it near his mouth. They beat him when he got home for even trying to eat.”

Elle looked sympathetic and nodded. She looked a bit angry too, but not at Richie. She seemed more mad at Stan’s situation. It’s always amazed the members of the BAU that someone could treat another human the way that some people do, even though it's their job to understand those things.  
“I’m sorry if I’m rant-” Richie began but then Elle shushed him.  
“No. Keep going. You’re helping a lot.”

“Okay.” Richie sighed, “His dad’s definitely jealous because his son is out of the closet and he himself still is. He’s...done some bad things to Stan….sexually…and Stan’s pretty traumatized. I feel like his dad did it out of spite for his son.  
“His mom’s just as bad though, so don’t pretend she’s so innocent. That would be a huge mistake. She usually shames him and embarrasses him. Like...stripping him naked and just...yeah...anyway...she once glued his windows open in the dead of winter and took anything he could use to keep himself warm.  
“Bill had to show up with a blanket and his own body heat to keep Stan alive.  
“He tends to be scared of new people and if you try to give him anything and I mean anything will not go down well. He will refuse to take it because he’s scared of it getting taken away.”

Elle was listening intently and Spencer Reid approached, silently and careful not to interrupt. He was listening for a minute before he cleared his throat. Richie spun around and saw him standing there. 

“Sorry, am I in your seat?” Richie seemed to grow up as he spoke to the BAU. As he spoke about something he was really concerned about. As he did anything this serious. He stood up and backed away a little, glancing toward Ben, Mike, and Bev sitting in some chairs on the far side of the room.  
Reid shook his head and then hesitated. “It’s not my desk. I just needed to talk to Elle.”  
Richie sat back down and Elle stood up instead. Reid pulled her to the side.

“What? Is this about one of the kids?”  
“Yeah. It’s about a boy named Eddie Kaspbrak. They’re arresting his mother right now for drug theft and designer drug possession. She’s an abusive and manipulative Munchausen's by-proxy parent. We need a caretaker for the boy and neither Hotch nor Derek is willing to do it.”

Elle looked at Reid like he was crazy. Elle still didn’t feel safe in her home, even after so many years of living there. She had plenty of time to recover from the ‘incident’ as the bureau called it. She had been shot in her own house...the one place where she should feel safe….but now she didn’t.  
There is no way she’d let those kids in. No matter how bad she wanted to.

“No way Reid. I can’t do it I'm sorry,” Reid stared at Elle for a couple of seconds before putting his hands on his eyes and sighing.  
“I guess that leaves me or JJ, huh,” Reid removed his hands from his eyes and chuckled, “I can't believe I'm going to do this,” Elle rolled her eyes  
“Well, you are the youngest Reid, I mean you would get along better with them than anyone else in the team,” She smirked, Reid pressed his lips together and nodded his head gently. 

Reid looked over at the boy sitting at the desk. Richie looked extremely nerdy at the moment. His brown eyes magnified by his thick glasses, his Hawaiian shirt more vibrant than anything else in a 60-mile radius, and his hair was a complete mess.   
Doctor Spencer Reid had no idea what the hell he was going to do with this one. Eddie was going to be easy, however...at least, Reid hoped so.

Hotch walked over to the two in the corner and looked at Richie before looking back at Elle and Reid.  
“Reid, you’re taking them home with you.” He said simply, almost in an ‘end of argument’ way.  
Reid rolled his eyes and nodded. “Me and Agent Greenaway have discussed this. I know. It’s because I’m young and live alone. I just still don’t understand how you expect me to take care of them.”  
“You’re a member of the FBI, Spence,” JJ said walking by. “You can babysit a couple of kids for a while.”


	6. 5: Seven People, Plus Reid

Garcia brought in Stanley, Bill, and Eddie. All seven Losers stood before Doctor Reid, quiet as mice. Eddie kept reaching for his fanny pack around his waist only to find that it wasn’t there, Bill looked somber continuously thinking about a yellow raincoat, Stan was shaking, Richie adjusting his glasses, Beverly fidgeted with her key necklace, Mike shuffled his feet on the floor like Dorthy from the Wizard of Oz, and Ben kept taking his hands out of his pockets and then putting them back in indecisively.

“Well...I guess I take you guys home,” Reid started walking towards the exit of the bau building, the losers slowly following behind him. Reid touched the down button of the elevator, signaling the losers to get inside, he filed them in one by one trying his best to fit all of them inside.  
“I'm suffocating in here!” Eddie yelled from the back corner of the elevator, everyone chuckled and ignored him, “I'm serious! You are all squishing me!”   
“It's not that bad,” Reid said, leaning on the wall of the elevator. And as soon as Eddie heard the ding of the elevator door opening he quickly shoved his way out. Eddie patted his waist looking for his pouch, only to not find it once again. He sat down on the floor taking short breaths. Reid noticed the boy panicking trying to find his inhaler, he rested his hand on eddies shoulder,  
“You’re okay, take your time,” he squatted down next to Eddie. Eddie took a few minutes sitting on the ground taking sharp quick breaths every few seconds. Eddie nodded and slowly sat up from the ground.  
“Took ya long enough,” Richie playfully elbowed him and chuckled. The group started to continue leaving the building, Richie staying close to Eddie making sure he was okay.   
“Eh, thanks Rich…” Eddie mumbled. Richie put his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and smiled.  
“You and me Eds, best freakin’ friends…” Richie faltered. He didn’t want to be friends with Eddie. He...well...he wanted to ruin their friendship. Okay?! No Tik Tok pun intended.  
Eddie nodded.  
“Yeah...best buddies.” He began to blush, wishing he were dead and buried in a ditch.  
Richie removed his arm awkwardly and went to go try and lighten the mood between Bill and Stan, as they were completely silent.

They walked out the front door and down the steps.  
“This is the only ride I could get for all of us to fit in,” Reid pointed to a big clunky light gray mom van, he turned around to meet the confused and almost disappointed faces of the kids.   
“What the dick is that?” Richie pushed his glasses up his nose and gestured to the car.  
“It’s a car…?” Reid sighed and began heading towards it, his long legs out-walking the kids. They dashed to catch up. 

Reid yanked open the sliding door and it made a horrendous squeaking sound. Bev covered her ears.  
“I thought the FBI made some kind of money, but I guess I was wrong.” She gritted her teeth against the sound.  
“We do, but it’s very very difficult to find a car that can fit eight people, even if seven of them are kids.” He replied, gently touching Eddie’s back as he climbed into the van. Eddie turned back out for a second and gagged.   
“It smells like weed in here. Do you even know how bad that is for your lungs?” He wheezed, his eyes watering, and hand reaching for his pack.   
It still wasn’t there.  
“Wait...there’s seven of us, not eight...oh yeah!” Mike laughed. “I forgot to add Reid.” The rest chuckled, climbing after Eddie.

“Yep...seven people, plus Reid,” Spencer replied as he closed the door. He sat in the driver's seat.  
“Hey, D-Doctor?” Bill asked. Reid adjusted the mirror to look at him.  
“Yeah?”  
“Are you s-s-sure you’re old enough to d-drive?”

…

Bill watched Stan’s lips carefully.  
It was a thing he often did when they were walking together. Sometimes he would watch the way his curls bounced, but mostly his lips.  
Stan would silently count when he walked, mouthing the words. He’d count his steps, count the stairs, count the number of tiles on the floor, count anything his eyes laid on.   
If Stan had a nightmare in the middle of the night, he would sneak out and walk a few blocks to Bill’s house to sleep with him for comfort. If Bill listened close enough, he could hear the numbers being whispered in the darkness.  
The quiet ‘one, two, three, four’ or maybe a pattern Stan finds in the ceiling. Then it would become ‘one, two, one, two, three, four, one, two, one…’  
His OCD was mesmerizing to Bill.

Stan counted the seconds it took for the elevator to reach the second floor as they rode upward. The elevator was a bit larger than the one at the bureau, so they weren’t as packed together.  
Eddie still felt suffocated however. He had no medication anymore, no comforting weight of his fanny pack around his waist, and no aspirator to suck on when he was nervous.  
That thought was even more constricting than the lack of his inhaler.

The elevator doors opened with a satisfying ‘swoosh’ sound and Reid was the first to step off, leading the way.  
“Y-You never answered my q-qwuh-question, doctor.” Bill said quietly, being careful not to make too much noise in the hallway.  
“What question?” Reid asked.  
“Are you s-sure you’re old enough to d-dr-drive?” The losers chuckled at Bill’s question.  
“I feel like that’s a compliment. It’s good to look younger.” Reid smiled a little and then pressed his lips together. He stopped in front of a plain looking door.   
“Number 23, floor 2…” Stan whispered. Richie glanced at him and then at Eddie. Eddie was looking around the hallway and then he caught Richie’s gaze. Rich quickly glanced away, but it was too late.  
Eddie decided it was best to say nothing.

Reid opened the door and the first thing Ben expected was books. What did he get? Books.   
They were laying all over things, on the couch, on the coffee table, and on the desk.

“Sorry, I was planning on cleaning up when I came home after work. I wasn’t planning on bringing home a bunch of kids. I was just re-organizing.” Reid began fidgeting with a stack of books like he was trying to make it slightly more appealing to the eye.  
Ben looked around in awe. He’d been to libraries before with thousands of books, but this many in one room of someone's house was insane.  
“Do you read a lot…?” Ben asked.  
“Oh, all the time. One of my favourites is The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury, also the Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle.” Reid spoke softly like his house was a library. Ben looked at the doctor in front of him and smiled.  
“I read a few Ray Bradbury stories. One of them that stuck with me was The Jar.”

Eddie groaned. “Enough chit chat. Where are we gonna sleep? I mean this place is as messy as hell and I don’t see any air mattresses or anything.”  
“So impatient.” Reid smiled a little bit, pressing his lips together. “I told you, I wasn’t expecting to have to bring home seven kids today. It’s barely even my house anymore.”  
Eddie smiled. “When’s bedtime?”  
“Bedtime!?” Richie scoffed, accidentally knocking over a few books in his exasperation.“You’re worried about bedtime?”  
“What?! What are you laughing at?! I’m tired! Bill’s brother just died, I just lost my mom because apparently she drugged me, and Stan just spilled his guts to the FBI about being raped and abused. And you’re perfectly awake and ready to pop off?!” Eddie yelled, looking extremely angry. Reid stood, watching them yell, unsure of what to do.

Bev grabbed Richie’s arm and dragged him off. “We’ll be right back after these short messages.” She grunted, yanking Richie into a different room.  
Eddie sighed, his lungs wheezing. He’d never gone this long without his aspirator...even if it was a fake.  
Mike began to clear the couch of its books and he made Eddie lay down.  
“I swear...Richie’s going to be the death of me…” Eddie closed his eyes and listened to Stan, quietly counting the books.

…

Reid had a guest room.  
His apartment was kind of big for a single person, but he liked the space. He liked the room he had to move around and live when he was away from work.  
But had never needed to use his guest room until now.

Reid had called JJ and asked for a quick favor, in desperate need to get these kids to bed.

“ JJ...I’m really really really sorry for calling you so late, but can I ask you a favor?” He asked, watching Richie bounce up and down on his bed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bev take a puff of a cigarette.   
“NO! Beverly! Put that thing out! NO! NOT ON THE TABLE! Rinse it off in the bathroom and throw it away!” JJ heard him yell as he took his ear away from the room. “Richie! Get down from my bed! Or you’re sleeping on the couch!”  
“NO!” Richie had yelled from the distance, “IMA RUB MY BUTT ALL OVER YOUR SHEETS!”

JJ tried to stifle a giggle at the sound of Reid struggling. She considers making a joke about how she didn’t know his voice was louder than a whisper, but she knew it wasn’t true. It was just funny.  
“What’s the favor, Spence?” She smiled over the phone.  
“I need air mattresses, two of them. Also seven toothbrushes and five blankets, and some melatonin pills. The ones that taste like strawberries as well as grapes at the same time.”  
“Don’t you think it’s illegal to give children that aren’t your's medication?” JJ asked, writing these things down on a notepad. Reid stays silent for a second and just as JJ is about to ask if he’s still there, he speaks as clear as day.  
“They’re for me.”


	7. Like Profiler, Like Son

Eddie felt himself being lifted off the couch but his eyes were too heavy to open.  
Whoever this person was, they walked very lightly down the hall, and they were also pretty strong. Their clothes smelled like Tide laundry detergent and he only knew that because he used to open the bottles in the store and smell them as a kid until his mom caught him.  
When Eddie realized this description didn’t fit Richie, he opened his eyes.  
Oh. It was just Reid.   
Reid gently placed Eddie on the ground of the guest room, and before Reid could get a chance to walk away Eddie grabbed the end of Reid's shirt tugging it like a three-year-old asking their mother for candy.

“Yes, Eddie?” Reid said, moving his gaze to meet Eddies doe-eyes, “Eddie what do you want?” Eddie looked down thinking of his response.  
“I’m hungry,” Reid nodded and scruffed Eddie’s hair. Eddie quickly tried to fix his hair back into the way it was before.  
“Wait! Don’t you need to know what I'm allergic to? Kinda important,” Reid walked back to Eddie, “I don’t wanna go into shock man, I’m allergic to cashews, whole eggs, lactose, and gluten. I had an epi-pen but you took it.” Reid chuckled and pulled out a light brown clipboard with a few papers attached to it. He flips back and forth between a few.   
“Well, I don’t see any allergies aside from cashews,” Reid kept on flipping through the pages to make sure he saw correct. “Yeah, I see nothing, I'm guessing your mother told you this, yes?” he looks up from the clipboard, Eddie looks down at the floor.  
“Are you sure?” Eddie starts to tear up, he looks at Reid for a moment. “I-I’m sorry,” He starts to wipe his tears. He turns around and walks into a different room where Richie was looking at some books on a table. Eddie pauses for a moment.  
“Richie?” Richie -who was completely startled- jumps and turns around not expecting to see a crying Eddie in the room.  
“Are you okay Eds?” He rushes over and puts his hand on Eddie's shoulder awkwardly.  
“Have I….ever been told the truth, Rich?” Eddie sobs. He didn’t understand anymore. He was confused, scared, and worried.  
What if he had withdrawal symptoms from all the drugs his mother fed him and then died from a seizure?   
What if he was forgotten at a store and he didn’t know how to get to the apartment because his mother had lied about which direction North, South, East, and West were?   
What if Stanley had purposely whispered the wrong numbers for the floor and room number, so he had to get help from a random stranger at the front desk?  
What if that stranger kidnaps him and murders him and then the FBI has to bury his mutilated and dead body, just like they would have to with Georgie’s?

“What do you mean ‘have you ever been told the truth’? I tell you the truth all the time!” Richie looked concerned.

Eddie fell heavily into Richie’s arms as he cried, his small shoulders shaking violently. 

He didn’t know whether Richie had never lied to him, would never lie to him, or even if he was lying now, but Eddie loved Richie so much that he didn’t even care anymore.  
Richie was there when his mother wasn’t.  
That was what made Eddie love his trashmouthed friend even more than ever.

…

Stan woke up from a nightmare, sweating yet still cold and breathing heavily. His shaking hands groped the other side of the bed for Bill’s warm body and he found it.  
He held Bill’s hand and began to count out loud. Whispering the numbers to Reid’s pitch black guest room like some kind of prayer he was taught as a kid.

“One...two...three...four...five…” He suddenly stopped and clutched his boyfriend’s hand tighter. Stan had the craziest idea...what if...just what if there was some kind of creature in the room, waiting for Stan to get to a certain number before it pounced.  
He could see the creature so vividly in his mind that he was convinced it was almost real.  
It was tall and lanky, like the doctor they were staying with...but it was taller. Its face was so long and disfigured....teeth sharper than claws, waiting to eat Stanley’s face first. It also appeared to be a woman. Her hips and breasts were disproportionately curved and her eyes were a dead white. No irises or pupils. Just blank slates waiting to be drawn on.

Stan shivered and the more he stared into the dark, the more he could see this woman’s shadow.  
Ever so softly the night played a small melody. Some kind of sheet music played by a flute drifted through the air, but those sounds were too close to be unreal, too real to be false, and too true to be natural.  
Stan’s breathing sped up and he fumbled for his phone, planning on using its flashlight. His breath hitched in his throat when his hand found nothing and as he remembered the lamp was on Bill’s side of the bed.

The creature’s flute music was being played louder now. Louder and closer than before, and if Stan didn’t find a way to get rid of it, it was going to suck his face off, he just knew it.  
He fumbled again in the dark, his hand striking something hard on the desk. His phone fell to the floor with a dull thud and most likely slid under the bed with his luck.  
He let go of Bill’s hand and covered his face, scared. And then he remembered...Bill! Bill could get him out of this situation! Bill could do anything.

As he opened his mouth to speak, another one opened and spoke for him.  
“Hey, Jewboy.” It whispered. Stan froze in place, eyes wide. “Kiss me will ya?”

From the floor, his phone light lit up and it cast a shadow under her gaunt face. The horrendous sounds she made as she shrieked were enough to make Stan believe his ears were going to bleed.  
Stan screamed too, covering his eyes with his hands.

Within seconds every light in the room turned on and someone was pulling on his arm. Stan screamed again, trying to breathe through his sobs.  
“Stan! St-Stanley!” The voice said frantically. But this time, it was Bill. The stutter gave it away to Stan’s panicked brain and he clung onto his boyfriend for dear life.

“What the dick happened?” Richie asked, putting on his glasses.  
“I- I dunno…” Bill replied. He held Stan close to his chest, running his fingers through the boy’s curly hair as gently as he could, careful not to startle him.  
Stan looked around the room and saw no sign of the woman.

All except a flute hung up on the wall.

Reid threw open the door, gun in hand but when he saw the coast was clear, he clicked the safety on and put it down.  
“What’s wrong?” He asked. Bev shrugged her shoulders and looked over at Stan with a small nod.

Bill was still holding Stan tightly, brushing his curls with his fingers.  
“He p-pr-probably just h-h-had a nightmare,” Bill whispered. He was scared that something might happen to Stan. Scared Stan might hurt himself because he thought he was going crazy. Scared to lose this boy just like he lost Georgie.  
Scared.  
When humans are scared, we either run and don’t look back, fight with our eyes close, or freeze and try to act like we aren’t real; like a baby closing its eyes and believing it’s invisible.  
Bill closed his eyes and did none of those things.  
He just pet Stanley, planting a few kisses onto his forehead until the both of them fell asleep.  
With the lights on.


End file.
